


Whenever It Rains

by Hallianna



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:37:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hallianna/pseuds/Hallianna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whenever it rains, he thinks of her.</p><p>Garrus and Shepard spend a night together after a hard-won battle against the Reapers on a rainy jungle planet. Turians aren't known for being fans of water, but for her, he'll suffer a little rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Was originally supposed to be a PWP, then it was a Porn With Plot, and now it's....I'm not sure what. But I'm finding I can't write this pairing without feelings and angst and a twinge of sadness. Many, many thanks to my beta, SpectreAntiHero for all her hard work and encouragement and wonderful feedback!

_“There are a hundred things she has tried to chase away the things she won't remember and that she can't even let herself think about because that's when the birds scream and the worms crawl and somewhere in her mind it's always raining a slow and endless drizzle........_

_Whenever it rains you will think of her. ”  
― Neil Gaiman_

 

"LZ is hot, Commander. Going to have to drop you in and get out. Call for me when you're ready to leave."

Shepard clapped a hand on Cortez's shoulder. "Not a problem, Lieutenant. Get to safety. You'll hear from me once we've rescued the fleet."

She nodded to Garrus and Vega right before the shuttle door opened. Gunfire erupted from all sides, explosions scattering rocks and pelting them with debris as they landed hard on the planet's surface. It was raining and the ground was covered in a thin, rolling fog, making the fighting all the more difficult.

“Vega, take out those Marauders!” she yelled, motioning the lieutenant forward.

“You got it!” Vega ran toward a rocky outcropping and ducked down, tossing an incendiary grenade and watching with glee as the grenade exploded and sticky bits of Reaper came raining down on them.

“Garrus?” she asked, turning to the turian at her side.

“On your six, like always, Shepard,” he said quietly, touching her shoulder briefly before rushing forward to take out a band of husks that had crested the hill ahead of them.

Eros was an abandoned garden planet on the outskirts of asari space and Primarch Victus had received word that one of the turian fleets they'd marked MIA after the Reapers hit Palaven was likely alive, but stranded, on this jungle-like world. A transmission from one of the fleet’s majors had come through a few hours before, saying they were still alive but pinned down by Reaper forces, and the Primarch had all but pleaded with Shepard, saying that if they didn’t go now, the fleet could be lost.

The 17th had been on a classified mission before everything went to hell and when lines of communication had been lost, it was easier to mark them as missing than waste what few resources the turians had left trying to track down what was deemed a lost cause. A politician would have left them even after the distress call had come in, but not Victus.

Victus was a different type of leader, a military man forced into a politician's role and as uncomfortable as he was, he knew the fate of his people rested with the decisions he made. Shepard could relate, and had told him as much a few days ago. That had earned her the turian equivalent of a smile and a quiet, "Yes, I'm sure you do, Shepard. I'm sure you do."

After her last conversation with the Primarch, Garrus had pulled her aside in the conference room, away from prying eyes, and said in her ear, "Careful, Shepard. If I was the jealous type, I'd think Victus was making eyes at you."

Shepard had turned skeptical eyes to him and scoffed. "I don't think so, Garrus."

She'd kissed him quickly and turned to leave but he'd grabbed her elbow, stopping her mid-stride. "Hate to argue with you, Shepard, but you can't hear all the subtle shifts in turian subvocals. Victus was flirting with you, that much is very clear."

That bit of info had thrown her. She’d jerked out of his grip and said, "What? Why? Garrus, that doesn't make any sense, everyone knows we're together. Plus, he's the Primarch, he certainly has better things to do than flirt with a human-”

His mandibles had flared out, a sign of agitation - with her, with the situation, she hadn’t been sure at the moment - but he’d grabbed her again and pulled her into a corner. “Shepard, listen to me. Victus has an interest in you, I’m very certain about that. He’s a widower with a grown son and he’s been slapped into a position of power that he’s still unsure about. He’s floundering, but turians don’t show weakness, so it’s common for us to find someone we admire and latch onto them, learn from them. He admires you, and there isn’t much of a line for some turians between admiration and lust, Shepard. We’re a few days still from any more movement on Tuchanka, it’s likely he’ll work up the courage to make you an offer.”

Shepard had softened in his grip and just stared at him. “You’re serious.” When he nodded, she sighed resignedly and said, “Okay, so, what the hell am I supposed to do about a …. goddamn horny Primarch? Are you telling me I could ruin our chances at diplomacy if I turn him down?”

Garrus had shaken his head. “No, actually, he’ll respect you either way. He’s not aware of our relationship, so he’ll back down but there’s still a chance he could pull rank and ask you above my head.”

That had taken a minute for Shepard to process. “Wait a just a fucking minute. You’re telling me he could pull rank on you for your girlfriend?”

“If you were turian, technically-”

But Shepard hadn’t let him finish. “You have to be fucking kidding me right now.”

Garrus had seen the rage boiling up in her eyes and had tried to head it off at the pass. He’d known he shouldn’t have said anything to her about Victus attempting to go over his head for a right to her. That rarely happened with turians anymore, and usually only with severely alpha males who thought they had a right to every female who crossed their paths. Most of those males wound up with no mates and few friends, but it was always a reality most turian men knew to be on the lookout for, just in case.  The old ways had died out long ago, but he'd heard the stories, just like any other young man, terrified about that first girlfriend, that first time.  “Shepard, I wasn’t insinuating anything. All you need to do is tell him that we’re together and he’ll back off. Victus is a military man and we respect each other. He’s too busy to bother himself with the intricacies of anything more than a casual flirtation or just blowing off steam.”

“So, he respects me, but I would still just be a piece of ass.” Shepard had curled her hands at her sides, this whole situation making her angry. She’d wished Garrus had never brought it up, had just gone to the Primarch himself and informed him that they were together and let it rest. She would have never known, and they would have all been the better for it.

Garrus had ran a weary hand down his face, letting go of his hold on her. “Spirits, Shepard, did I say that? Did you hear those words come out of my mouth?” Now he was getting angry, she was taking this too far, too personally. What had started out as him being a little jealous at the Primarch making eyes at his girlfriend and what he envisioned as a chance to tease her about it was erupting into a full-blown fight. Not the time, not the place, not the topic. If they were going to fight, they were going to do this on the mats in the shuttle bay, not in a dark corner of the conference room, half whispering in fear that someone would walk in and overhear them.

Shepard had thrown her hands in the air then, gesturing wildly, something she only did when her anger got the better of her. It was how people who were “half Italian, half Irish” liked to argue, as she often joked. Garrus still didn’t understand why that was funny, but it always made other humans laugh, so he went along with it. “No, you’re right, Garrus, you never said it, but you might as well have.” She’d turned wild eyes to him and began pacing. “So should I just go break the bad news to Victus now, or do you want to do it? How disappointed is he going to be that he isn’t getting a piece of this?” And in one of her not-so-finer moments, she slapped the side of her own ass. It was supposed to be crass, but it was so abrupt, so out of character, Garrus almost laughed.

“Well, that would certainly get his attention,” he’d said, trying to bring the conversation back to a more even ground. But she had just groaned in frustration and walked away, forcing him to follow her as she paced. When she hit a wall and turned to retrace her steps, he grabbed her shoulders to stop her. "Shepard, stop," he said quietly. "I'll go talk to Victus-"

"No, I'll do it," she growled as she wriggled from his grasp and side stepped him. "Better clear this up now, right? Can't have this personal bullshit in the way of the war."

Garrus grabbed for her again, harder this time, and caught her forearm as she brushed past him. His grip had tightened on her as she fought to wrest free, but he pulled her back to him, readying another, harsher, response. She wasn't listening and Garrus felt badly that he'd put her in such a position. He should have kept his mouth shut, he should have-

"Garrus."

When he looked down, her expression was a mixture of emotions he couldn’t quite read. He'd pulled back on his grip a little, fearful that he was hurting her. But another, more careful examination of her face and body left him a little stunned. Her blue eyes had gone dark, her shoulders rigid, and her hips were canted forward just slightly. He knew that look, knew what it meant when her breath caught like that - Spirits, she was turned on. Right here, right now, Shepard was getting turned on by arguing with him in the war room of her own goddamn ship. Shit, he loved this woman.

_She liked it rough, always had. A little restraint, that sense of being controlled, letting him dominate her physically and mentally gave her a thrill. It made her so wet , set her nerves so alight she almost couldn’t stand it, would beg him for release every time. He could be tongue-deep in her, her arms bound over her head and he could order her not to say a single fucking thing and she’d still scream his name in the end. She couldn’t help it._

_She loved other things too. Being fucked when she was naked and he was fully clothed, him looming over her, talking in her ear about all the ways he could claim her, take her, bury himself inside her heat and make her shatter. Other times she would surprise him, inviting him up to her cabin and he’d show up with a bottle of wine only to find her sitting on the bed, naked, legs spread so he could see her already dripping for him. She would ask him for tongue and teeth and talons and kisses that bruised but at the end, after they’d both come so hard he’d figured they’d go blind, she’d crawl over to him and hold him and kiss him so lovingly it made his heart ache._

But in the heat of the moment like this, in a very public space? That was something new, even for them. Her tongue had flicked out to lick her lips and he’d groaned softly, noting the way she shifted slightly under his touch.

“Are we done yelling at each other yet?” she’d asked softly, eyes searching his face.

“Yeah, I think we’re done,” he’d replied huskily, utterly amazed at how quickly this woman revved him up. “Still want me to talk to the Primarch?”

“I say we don’t bother with it. There’s a war on, you know.” She’d reached up to stroke the back of his neck, making him purr and rub against her, pressing his hips into hers. He’d had to brace himself on the wall while she’d worked nimble fingers into the base of his fringe, his breath catching in the back of his throat.

“I’m sorry, Shepard,” he’d whispered. “We turians are a jealous bunch, and seeing the way Victus was getting around you was making me crazy, and not in the good way. I didn’t mean to lose my temper with you.”

“I’m sorry too. I lost my temper and I can be such an ass, you know,” she’d whispered in his ear, clever tongue snaking out to taste him. His knees had buckled and she’d pulled him to the floor, chuckling at how he insisted on pinning her down.

“I do know.” She’d smacked him lightly for that and he’d chuckled. “What are you laughing at?” he said as he crawled over her, nipping at her neck. “I thought you liked it this way.”

“I do,” she’d replied, biting back. “I just am amazed at how well I’ve trained you.”

A smartass reply was on the tip of his tongue when the door whooshed open and Vega and Wrex walked in to find them tangled on the floor. Vega had let out a “Damn, Commander, don’t you have a cabin for that?” and Wrex had just laughed and said, “Can’t believe you let him on top, Shepard,” before heading into the War Room.

When Vega and Wrex were gone, Shepard pulled Garrus to his feet, dusted off his armor, and said, “Well, cross off sex in public from our list of ways to try it,” laughing so hard she’d had to wipe tears from her eyes.

Garrus was ready to pull her to her cabin when Traynor called her from the CIC and Victus hailed him from the War Room. That had been two days ago, and neither one had gotten any real time together since then. To say they were itching for some private time would have been a grand understatement.

This was the thought that distracted Garrus as he took down husk after husk, clearing a path for Shepard and Vega to rush forward and take out the banshee that had appeared on top of the hill ahead. I’m a terrible turian, he thought, chuckling to himself before popping a heat sink and reloading.

He watched as Shepard’s biotics flared, deep blue light encasing her hands, as she distracted the banshee, giving Vega time to get around to the other side and knock it down with his Claymore. He worked on keeping the husks and cannibals off them, picking off stragglers and keeping a watchful eye for any other trouble.

When the death wails of the banshee sounded in his ears, Shepard radioed him to come down from his makeshift sniper’s nest, her voice slightly breathless in his ear. He knew it was from the exertion of battle but it made his plates twitch nonetheless. When they found the 17th and got off this rock, he was going to pin that woman to a wall and make her -

“Hey, Scars, still with us?”

Garrus whipped his head around and saw Vega giving him an amused look. “Any reason why I wouldn’t be, Lieutenant?”

Vega shrugged, his armored shoulders clanking as they rose before coming back down again. “Could be because you were watching the Commander like you wanted to eat her alive, but I’ve been known to be wrong.”

Garrus stalked toward him, making the human backpedal just a little as the turian’s taller form came nearer. “And if you’re not wrong?”

Vega gave him a shit-eating grin. “Well, then that’s between you and Lola, isn’t it, Scars?”

Shepard, who heard the entire conversation through their joined comms, motioned them forward. They couldn’t see her exaggerated eye-roll through her helmet but she did say, “Is the banter portion of the battle over yet? Because we have a fleet to rescue, and the last transmission we received from them said they’d spotted a Harvester in the area. That thing could do a lot of damage, so if you two are done discussing my sex life, let’s get a move on.”

Shepard took off at a clip, laughing as Vega sputtered in the comm and Garrus snorted at his reaction to her boldness. As they ran through mud and vines and past holes as big as a krogan tank, Shepard shouted into her comm, “Are we having fun yet, boys?”

Vega huffed and shouted back, “Oh yeah, Commander, I just love all this rain and mud and shit. It’s already hell trying to see these Reaper bastards on a good day, let alone on a planet like this.”

“Agreed!” Garrus rumbled into the comm, his long strides keeping him slightly ahead of the two humans. “Asari used to live here? Ugh, it’s rainy and humid. Give me dry and hot any day.”

Shepard slowed as they rounded a corner and came across a huge pile of rubble. Scattered gunshots drew their attention to the east and Shepard motioned them forward. “EDI, can you patch us through to the 17th? I think we’re nearing their location.”

“I’ll do what I can, Shepard.”

They ducked behind a large boulder to catch their collective breath and check heat sinks before moving forward. Shepard took the moment to turn to Garrus. “Really, Garrus? Dry and hot? No rain whatsoever?”

Garrus shuddered. “Never did like it wet.”

Shepard gave him a look that he could see plain as day even through her helmet. “I beg to differ.”

Vega coughed. “Okay, that’s not awkward at all.” He peered over their cover and immediately ducked back down. “Reapers up ahead, Commander, and they’ve got what looks our turian fleet backed into a corner.”

“Okay, we’re going in hot,” Shepard said, punching in a cryo ammo code. “Let’s nail these bastards and get the fleet out before they take any more losses.”

They rushed in, guns blazing, Shepard grinning like a fiend, Vega covering their backs and Garrus at her six. The turian major they’d been communicating with had directed them to where he and the rest of the 17th were foxholed in a valley, fighting off the Reapers with everything they had. Their ship had been shot down miles away by a Cerberus vessel and the surviving troops had managed to kill all the Cerberus forces, but their ship was completely destroyed. Their shuttles were a work in progress, but communication had been sketchy at best.

Just when it looked like they could get airborne again, enough to get to a nearby asari stronghold, the Reapers had found them. It had seemed an almost pointless battle, but they were determined to go down fighting. The major had put out one more distress call, one last signal in hopes that someone would be listening. Turians didn’t give up until the last man, but then…

“Woo, there goes another one!”

“Vega, you talk too much!” Shepard chided, laughing despite herself over the comm. She turned, popped a heat sink into her Vindicator, and took out three husks that came around the corner.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Commander,” Vega shot back, whipping around his Claymore and laying waste to another pack of husks. “Damn things keep coming.”

“I wouldn’t complain too much about them, Lieutenant,” Garrus said warningly as he came to Shepard’s side and pointed above them. “Harvester, get down!”

They scrambled into the foxhole, Shepard narrowly missing hitting the heads of a few turians with her armored feet. “Sorry,” she grumbled before letting loose a string of curses that made several of the troops laugh.

Shepard turned to the turian fleet, a little stunned to find so many of them left standing and staring back at her expectantly. “All right everyone, I’m Commander Shepard, many of you probably have heard of Garrus Vakarian, and to my left is the esteemed Lieutenant Vega. I want everyone who can still fire a gun and wants to get the hell out of this foxhole to concentrate every bit of firepower they have on _that damn Harvester._ Are we clear?”

A resounding, “Yes ma’am!” shot back at her and she nodded, winking at Garrus before barking commands to the troops. She flanked them to take aim at the Harvester from left and right points and instructed them to go for the weak spots in its armor around the joints in its legs. She and Garrus took point while Vega broke off with a small squad to fend off any remaining Reapers on the ground so they weren’t caught by surprise.

The plan worked surprisingly well. The Harvester, while extremely dangerous, was no match for the streams of gunfire, her biotics, and Garrus’ well timed shots straight into its core. It fell and exploded in a spectacular display, taking out the remains of the Reapers on the ground.

The turian troops let out a celebratory cry, one that Shepard and Vega didn’t need a translator to understand, and Shepard put a call in to Joker. “Any signs of inbound Reaper ships, Joker?”

“Nothing, Commander. The last signature EDI picked up was a whole planet system away.”

“Good. I think we’ll be safe for a little while. If anything so much as blips on your radar, let me know right away.” She switched channels and signaled Cortez. “Bring me every shuttle you have loaded with all the medical supplies and dextro-levo food rations we can spare. Bring your best tools and anyone on board with shuttle or mechanic experience. And bring Chakwas and the Primarch down here, but be ready to get the Primarch back to safety stat should something go wrong.”

For the first time since this damn war had begun, it felt like something had gone right. She looked around at the bedraggled but elated group and smiled. "We’re staying put for an evening.”


	2. Chapter 2

Eros might have been a jungle planet, but where the turians had dug themselves in was, in a word, gorgeous.  Shepard turned around in a circle and admired the view.  The rain hadn't stopped but the gray overhanging clouds had given way to a purple twilight that left everything a little hazy but not quite so dark.

Lush greenery shrouded the clearing they now were using as a base camp, and a few brave souls had gone further into the jungle to discover trees so tall you couldn’t see the tops of them, a river, and at the end of that, a waterfall that dropped down into rapids that could suck you down in an instant.  Dangerous, but beautiful.  Fires had been lit and what had once been a war zone was now a campsite for almost one hundred turian troops, ten humans, and a visiting turian Primarch.  A wide network of trees and canopy kept out most of the rain, sheltering them from the worst of the planet’s weather.

Cortez and a few of the Normandy crew had set to work on repairing the turian shuttles and Primarch Victus had started making calls to get a ship to the planet to pick up the troops.  Shepard was doubtful that he’d be successful; the war had stretched the turian resources to the breaking point and human resources were no better, but she supposed it was worth a try.  

She had already talked to Hackett about her plans to stay for the evening, stating it would earn her points with the Primarch and that she wasn’t about to strand the troops she’d just rescued.  Hackett, a lifelong military man, understood this.  She’d also asked about transporting the troops on the Normandy and while he was for it, he said it would have to come later.  The Normandy could only hold about half of the squad, and she wouldn’t be able to come back to the planet for the other half of the squad until later.  Worse yet, there was no guarantee she’d ever be able to make it back.  It was a risk Shepard wasn’t willing to take, fifty some odd turian lives in her hands. Hackett would be making his own calls but again, couldn't promise anything. There was a war going on.

She hoped the Primarch would get through to someone, anyone and get a ship down to the planet before long.  She left the Primarch to his calls and wandered off to find Garrus, but got distracted by another sight.

Chakwas was in a tent, treating injuries and chatting with every turian that came to her.  She was truly in her element, treating battle wounds, bullet holes, and burns like the professional she was. Shepard loved watching the doctor work.  She sat with Karin for a while, watching the slow procession of turian troops come in and out of the tent.  The worst of the injured stayed in the neighboring tent, being treated by the two turian medics still left with the fleet.

Vega had set to work helping Cortez with shuttle repairs, but when he started getting in the way and cracking one too many jokes for the likes of the normally even-tempered shuttle pilot, Shepard found him thoroughly ensconced with a small group of turians around a fire, telling stories and comparing old battle wounds.  

When she tried to slip away unnoticed, Vega called out to her. “Hey, Lola, come over here for a second.”  Shepard returned to the campfire, crossed her arms, and raised one eyebrow at him.  Vega just chuckled.  “I know that look, Lola.  No, I wanted to properly introduce you, out of the armor, to some of the men you just rescued.”  He nodded to turians he was seated with.  “Varel, Fen, Darra, meet Commander Shepard.”

She waved him off, presenting her hand to each of the turians, who all stood.  It was something one did in polite company, but especially when said company just saved your ass.  Turians were big on showing respect, and Shepard understood that.  “I don’t stand on formality.  It’s just Shepard.”

The last one to shake her hand, Darra, gave her a flanging laugh.  “No first name, Shepard?”

“It’s a secret, or so she likes to think,” came a voice from behind her, near enough to almost be in her ear.  “But I’m not supposed to tell, or she might shoot me.”

Shepard smiled slightly as Garrus came around her, his warmth settling over her.  "He's telling the truth," she said to the laughter of the seated turians. "And he's my best sniper, so I'd rather not have to shoot him."

“And she’s also telling the truth there,” Garrus replied, not bothering to cover up the pride in his voice.  “I doubt she’d keep me otherwise.”

“I don’t know, Scars,” Vega said, crossing his arms and giving Garrus an appraising look.  “I think Shepard has other uses for you.”

“And that’s where this conversation ends,” Shepard cut in, shoving Garrus away from a laughing Vega.

“Hey, Lola, fair is fair!” he called out to their retreating backs.  “I get to make you uncomfortable after those comments from before!”

“I’m your commanding officer!” she shot back over her shoulder.  “You should always be a little uncomfortable around me!”  Vega just kept laughing as they continued to walk away.

Garrus was silent for a moment before he turned to look at her.  “Got a minute, Shepard?” he said in her ear.  Shepard nodded her response and let him pull her to a more secluded patch of trees before giving him a questioning look.  He just smiled, mandibles flaring widely, and said, “I thought we might go explore a little bit, Shepard.  Seems I was wrong about this planet.”

She leaned against a gnarled tree, brushing a leaf away from her face.  “How so?  If memory serves, you said you weren’t a big fan of this rather wet planet.”  Shepard put a hand out into the steadily falling drizzle.  They were mostly protected underneath the trees but a few gaps between the wide branches let in some of the rain.  

Garrus looked up briefly at the network of branches before glancing back down at her and saying, “In general, no.  But I found something that might interest you.”

She had to admit, she was curious.  He was being damn mysterious and the way he tugged her into the trees and avoided her questions about where they were going and what he was doing was both frustrating and a little sweet.

After a few minutes, they cleared a swath of trees and he led her around a corner.  The sight that greeted Shepard left her slightly stunned. A slow smile spread over her face as she realized what Garrus had done.

Garrus just watched her from a few feet away as she stared at the small oasis, complete with waterfall and and rocky outcropping and tried not to grin.

"It's just like his postcards," she finally said as she turned to him, the smile never leaving her face.

"Well, it's a hard story to forget, the uncle who made such a huge impression on you that you've kept every correspondence from him since you were a kid," he replied, leaning comfortably against a nearby tree.

Shepard had the decency to look embarrassed, even though it came off more as aggressive on her slightly hawkish features. "I figured you were just being nice, telling me how interesting you thought it was that my planetside stationed uncle still sent me old fashioned postcards, when what you really thought was, _'How quaint can these humans get, with their paper mementos and their old fashioned communication?'_ "

Garrus crooked a talon at her and she came to him readily, curling into his embrace. "Is this your way of saying thank you?"

Shepard tilted her head up and smiled. It tugged at his heart to see her face so open like that. "Thank you, Garrus, truly. It's beautiful, and very, very sweet that you remembered me and my uncle like this." She leaned in and kissed him softly, making him purr in response.

Once she pulled back, Garrus sighed and tightened his hold on her, pressing her against him.  After a few moments of silence, Garrus let out a small contemplative noise, making Shepard shoot him a questioning look.

He fluttered his mandibles at her in response. "Well, I was just thinking....you drag me down to this very _wet_ planet, I find this beautiful spot just for the two of us, and all I get is a thank you?  Granted, it was a very heartfelt thank you, and don't think I'm not appreciative, but I just feel like there's something more - "

Shepard cocked an eyebrow at him. " Always knew you had a dirty mind, Vakarian," she muttered, reaching up to trace a teasing finger over the softer hide left exposed above the neck of his armor. The hand on her waist traveled lower until it briefly cupped her ass, making her laugh and arch against him.

"Mmmm, Shepard, do that again," he teased, his voice dropping into a register she was very familiar with.

A small hand with war and weather-beaten knuckles pushed on his carapace and he caught it in his own, trapping her against him. She struggled half-heartedly in the snare his body and arms made but it wasn't a real effort. Garrus had heard the way her breath had caught just moments ago, had seen the way her eyes had darkened, pupils blown and bleeding out her irises.

_She liked it rough, always had.  A little restraint, that sense of being controlled...._

Garrus wasn't about to let her needs go unmet. He'd come to need this too, her unyielding demand for him to take her over, to let him be possessive and protective and loving all in one clear, deadly shot.

He'd fallen in love with a human woman who drove him mad and made him worry and forced him to see the universe in ways he never dreamt of before.

_Shepard, never forget, I'm a turian. It's all claws and teeth and plates with us._

_I don't believe that for a second, big guy. If you're trying to scare me off, it's not working. Did you ever happen to stop and think that maybe I like all your sharp edges?_

_That's a dangerous thing to say, Shepard._

_Why? Because I'm human and you're turian? Because I used to be Alliance and a Commander? None of that matters, Garrus._

_And it doesn't to me either, Shepard, but -_

_But what?_

_Are you sure this is what you want? That I'm what, who, you want?_

_You've been with me since the beginning. Since Saren, and Virmire, and Ashley's death. You watched me get burned by the Council over and over again. And when I came for you on Omega, you had the balls to fire a fucking concussive round at me, just to make sure I was paying attention. And you're here now, on this ship - a Cerberus ship - not because you just want to hunt Collectors but because you trust me. Just like I trust you.  It's not blind faith, it's belief and honesty and long nights spent at the weapons bench together. And it's crappy ship food and jokes and watching the stars go by while drinking beer and saying nothing at all.  And it's good battles and bad battles and kicking Saren's ass and losing friends and me dying and coming back and finding you...._

_So believe me when I tell you that this is precisely what I want. You are what I want, Garrus._

And she'd been true to her word. They'd flirted and messed around, sneaking looks after battles and stealing kisses in the elevator.  She'd built him up, whispering promises in his ear and making him feel needed, wanted. And he'd known it was true, that she'd meant every word.  But when he'd come to her hours before the Omega 4 relay, he'd been nervous, doubt creeping in.

Shepard had taken the bottle of wine from his hand, turned off the cheesy music, and touched her forehead to his, belaying his fears and putting his mind at ease. She had looked at him with eyes dark with trust and longing and he tumbled head first into her - the way she smelled, the feel of her hair and her skin as he pulled her shirt over her head and caressed her shoulders, and had thrilled at her gentle touch on his face.

He never forgot that night, the first time he'd seen Commander Ismae Shepard come completely undone. It had been the most singularly beautiful thing he'd ever witnessed.

And here, now, this woman, this fierce, beautiful woman was pushing him up against a tree, her eyes bright with need and the remenants of battle adrenaline. More, she always wanted more.

He would never stop giving it to her.

They were in the middle of a heated kiss when Shepard jumped and slapped a hand on her neck.  "Shit, that's cold," she said, running her fingers through the back of her hair to shake loose the water that had dropped on her from the trees.

Garrus couldn't stifle his laugh. "Would you like me to keep the 'I told you so' to myself this time?"

"Laugh it up, Vakarian, laugh it up."

"Says the woman who just had her tongue halfway down my throat."

She socked him in the arm. "Anyone ever told you you're funny for a turian?"

He cocked an eyebrow plate at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She huffed at him. "It means I'm freezing and horny and not in the mood for conversation for right now."

He looked over her shoulder to the glow of fires from the camp, just smatterings of light in the distance. "We can always head back to camp. They have fires built and tents-"

Her hand crept up his chest, gloved fingers coming to rest on his neck.  Her touch was teasing, exploring. Questioning, like she knew he already had made plans for this. "Not having wild human-turian sex anywhere within earshot of camp, Garrus."

"Don't want to make anyone else jealous?" he asked as he drew her tight against him, their armor clanking together.

That got him a growl of frustration. "Garrus."

"Shepard."

"You bastard. Stop toying with me."

And he did. Without a word, he grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the cave by the waterfall. He'd spread out blankets, rations, and tinder for fire.  It was, despite the fact that it was a cave, cozy.

"Does this work for you, Shepard?"

Shepard turned and gave him an incredulous look.  “How do you always know?”

He pulled her to him and said in her ear, “Because I know you, Shepard.”

And he tugged her into the cave just as the sky opened up and heavy drops of rain began to fall.  The sound of it echoed against the cave walls as they fell into each other, armor discarded so they could feel heat and skin and plates with hands and tongues.

_“Garrus, please….”_

The rain fell outside, soaking the camp and dousing the fleet’s fires and making Vega curse and pull Cortez away from his welding.  

But they paid no mind.  They were too wrapped up in each other to notice the rain, to think about the camp in the clearing below them, or worry about the damn war.  For now, all that mattered was the moment they were stealing for themselves.  

Neither one of them knew how many more chances they’d have like this.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Shepard’s sore muscles screamed at her on the climb back down from the cave but she wasn’t complaining a bit.  In fact, it took more effort to wipe the stupid little grin off her face than it did to bite back a groan as she slipped down the last few feet of the hill to the camp and bumped into a tree.  Garrus was a few feet behind her, chuckling the entire time until he saw her smack into the tree, and then he was right there, one hand on her shoulder, the other on her side.

“You okay?”  His concerned gaze bore down on her, his hands gentle.

She looked up at him and nodded, smiling despite herself.  “Yeah, stupid tree jumped out at me.”  Shepard ran a light hand over his face.  “And how could I not be okay after what we just did?”

That made him laugh, a throaty thing that had a few nearby turians looking up.  Garrus didn’t try to quell the sound - let the others be jealous.  “Which part are you referring to, Shepard?”  

He leaned close, mandibles pressed against his face so he could whisper in her ear.  “The part where I got a little lost here,” and his hand wandered over her upper back, “or here?” and that hand skimmed lower, making her shiver.

Shepard breathed out slowly and turned toward him, eyes steady on his face as she said softly, “All of it, Garrus,” and pressed a kiss to his mouth before stepping away.

Her hand slowly slid from his, their fingers brushing, her warmth leaving him as she walked away.  He watched her go, watched the soldiers who were awake greet her with salutes and handshakes and words of genuine admiration and sometimes borderline hero worship.  He felt a swell of pride watching her and how she stopped to talk to each man and woman, how she gave them her time and her words and her touch.  

The visible relief and hope she provided these soldiers was truly remarkable.  They trusted her - not just her aim or her judgment or even her ability to keep them all safe.  They knew that death was possible, hell, even probable - like it was just waiting around the next tree or hill or down the barrel of a sniper perched in just the perfect spot.  They trusted _her_ , Commander Shepard, and her belief that this war would be won and eventually the galaxy would repair itself and life would go back to normal.  

Garrus snorted softly.   _Normal_.  What the hell did that even mean to soldiers like him?  He had always been an officer of some kind, even when he was just a young turian under his father’s roof, under his father’s command.  He had known when to take orders, when to not ask questions, and when to salute.  And then when C-Sec’s politics and red tape got to be too much, he struck out on his own and ran into the one thing he had never expected - a human woman with bark that made heads swivel and bigger men cower, a steady gun, and a heart as secretly as big as one of Palaven’s moons.  His life had gone from boring to lightspeed in a matter of minutes.  There had never been any normal.

His eyes slid to where Shepard was laughing and joking with Cortez and a couple of turian soldiers and he saw her easy stance, the hand she casually put on her lieutenant’s shoulder, and he admired her camaraderie with her crew.  When he had been Archangel, it had been easy to distance himself from the rest of his team.  They had all been loners, single players who banded together for a cause but they each had their own reasons, their own personal demons they fought with in their dreams or when staring down a scope.  

But Shepard….Spirits, he knew she’d been through hell and back, even before her death and Cerberus, having been an Earth kid stuck on her own, begging in the streets, forced to join a gang to survive.  And it made her tough, her edges sometimes so hard he thought he’d break against them.  But she never lost that part of her that made her something more, something bigger.  She was a goddamn hero to these men and women….larger than life, Commander Fucking Shepard, Hero of the Citadel, the woman who kicked Saren’s ass, who sent Cerberus packing, who was going to finish off the Reapers.

She didn’t know normal, either.  She’d never been given the chance.

But there she was laughing and smiling with Cortez, punching Vega in the arm when he told one too many dirty jokes, reassuring the turian troops that they’d have a ship coming in for them.  Commander Shepard, the galaxy’s big hero with her heart on her sleeve and he was the only one who saw it.  She glanced his way just as that thought crossed his mind and their eyes met.  That electric moment that always hit him like a punch in the gut when he saw her from afar had him leaning heavily against the tree. The way she froze - yeah, she felt it too.

Garrus could tell she wanted to come over to him, to be pulled back into the shadows where he was and just stay there.  It was an appealing idea.  It might give him the chance to steal a few more moments with her before they had to leave this rock and get back to the Normandy, back to the war.   _Back to the chance of bullets and fire and concussive blasts and the battle horns of Reapers.  Back to the chance of death._  

Damn his conscience for letting him be a good turian this one time.  He smiled slightly at her and shook his head.  Shepard understood immediately, the soldier and commander in her recognizing her duties.  Oh, she wanted to stay with him, to go back to his warm embrace and never leave but she had a job to do.  

They all did.

The next few hours were a flurry of activity as the rain bore down on them.  The camps were packed up, soldiers rushing to repack supplies, guns, and ammo as Shepard got word that a turian freighter was inbound for pickup.  But when two hours went by and no communication came back from the freighter, Shepard had to make the call.  She started to move the turians onto shuttles to get as many aboard the Normandy as possible.

They left almost half of the troops behind, EDI placing distress calls with any ship even remotely close to Eros and with a few that weren’t.  Shepard spent hours on the comm, making her case with the asari and salarians for aid, for a ship, for anything to get those troops off planet.  But help, it seemed, was not to be found.  They had their own problems, she was told, and a handful of turian troops were not priority when the Reapers were invading the galaxy.

Commander Shepard’s bleeding heart, it seemed, was clouding her judgment.

When she finally pulled away from her vid link and gratefully collapsed into Garrus’ open arms, he wanted to tell her so much.  The words were there - whole sentences about how he believed in her, how he admired her strength and her will and her faith that they’d win this war.  He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, how much he’d loved her from afar for so long, and how much it hurt to be so close to her and watch her destroy herself piece by piece.

But when she looked up at him and smiled a little, his heart broke and he lost those words.  Garrus simply pulled her to him, swearing silently at himself for his own damn weakness, his inability to tell this woman how much he loved her and how it would kill him if he lost her.  

Shepard wrapped herself in him like she always did, arms around his waist, leg flung over one of his, hair spread around him, breath slowing as she fell asleep.  He let her drift off before he dared to move, not wanting to disturb her.  He managed to pull away from her without waking her up and he settled behind her vid link, fingers poised over the keyboard.  He knew what he needed to do but his eyes kept lingering on her sleeping form, his heart aching.

The one image he couldn’t get out of his mind as he started to punch in Admiral Anderson’s name was that of Shepard as she’d looked at him through the rain and the fog just as she’d realized that she couldn’t go back to him that afternoon.  No one else would have seen the heartbreak on her face, but he had.  He’d been responsible for that, and now he was going to try and make up for it.

It took five tries and some pleading with EDI, but he finally got through to David Anderson.

The look of surprise on Anderson’s face quickly morphed into concern.  “Garrus?  Did something happen to Shepard?”

Garrus shook his head.  “No sir, she’s....well, she's not hurt but she's not fine.  I need a favor, need to get her back on track.”

Anderson shifted, crossed his arms.  “Whatever you need, son, whatever you need.  Whose ass do you need me to kick?  I may not be able to do it personally, but I can certainly make some calls.”

Garrus leaned back in his chair.  “If you have a minute, I have a story I need to tell you about what happened on Eros a couple of days ago.  And I may need to borrow an Alliance ship.”

 


End file.
